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| 


PRUGLBRS OF GRYRIRR COLLROR, 
| 
| 


AN 


INAUGURAL ADDARSS, 


PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE 


ON BEING INDUCTED INTO OFFICE AS 


PRESIDENT OF THE INSTITUTION, 


* £)oJuly 10, 1851. 


BY REV. B. PF. TREFTy D. B. 


Cincinnati: 


PRINTED AT THE METHODIST BOOK CONCERN. 
R. P. THOMPSON, PRINTER. 
1851. 


J a 
* . 
We ms / ws tig 2 


CORRESPONDENCE. 


LETTER OF COMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION. 


Lima, Jury 10, 1851. 
REVB ero LERETS Ds Ds 


President of Genesee College: 

Rev. and Dear Srr,—The undersigned were appointed by the Trus- 
tees of Genesee College a committee to request of you a copy of your 
able and eloquent Inaugural Address, delivered before them to-day, for 
publication. Your compliance with this request will much gratify the 
Trustees, and subserve the interests of our common cause. In behalf 
of the Trustees of Genesee College. 

Respectfully yours, M. Crow, 
E. C. Dresze, 
T. CaRrLton, 


Committee. 


REPLY. : 
Lima, Juty 11, 1851. 
REV. M. CROW, A. M., HON. E. C. DIBBLE, REV. THOMAS CARLTON: 


GENTLEMEN,—It is contrary to my usual practice to publish such. 


addresses as I may happen to deliver; but there are obvious reasons in 
the present case, by which I am led to break over my ordinary habit, 
and hand over the MS. of the one you mention to your disposal. With 
the very highest regard, gentlemen, I am 


Most sincerely yours, B. PP. ieee. 


LW AWOCWUR A ADWRIESD. 


—_—_———— 


GENTLEMEN OF THE Boarp or Trustrrs,—It would argue 
an undue degree of insensibility, could a man stand in this 
place, seeing what I see, and hearing what I have heard, 

| without being conscious of very unusual emotions. You 
have seen fit, gentlemen, without any of my solicitation, 
and without the solicitation of any of my friends, to bestow 
upon me, of your own free will, the highest honor in your 
power to give. You have not only elevated me to a respon- 
sible post, as responsible and as important as any other, 
when all its bearings are properly considered, but, from the 
day of this elevation, you have loaded me with good wishes, 
and urged me to a more speedy assumption of my new 
station, than I have found it in my power to make. Such 
were my engagements elsewhere, that I felt bound to tell 
you plainly, both before and after my election, of the utter 
impossibility of my taking offiee, till those engagements 
should be met and satisfied; and yet, embarrassing as it 
must have been to you, to wait nearly two years for the 
complete organization of your Faculty, you unexpectedly 
offered to do so, on condition, that the appointment should 
be accepted at the end of the period mentioned. On this 
ground our faiths were then mutually plighted; and on this 
ground Iam here to-day, in the midst of your annual festiv- 
ities, to give you a public pledge of the unchanged position 
of my purposes. 

While listening to the words of your honorable represent- 
ative, gentlemen, I could but think of the character of the 
body represented. The language, too, that he has seen 
proper to employ in reference to my past history, and to my 


b 85274 


| TT... 


[4] 


future connection with your institution, highly compliment- 
ary as it was, | can more than repay, and with more perfect 
"justice, in regard to those in whose behalf he has just 
spoken. I see around me, upon this broad platform, an 
array of personages, whose age, talents, and social position 
have already made their impression upon this vast concourse 
of citizens and strangers. I see those here, whose names 
are household words with all the people of the state. I see 
those here, who, in the pulpit, at the bar, in public business, 
and on the bench, have earned and secured a reputation, 
some of them a renown, that will be handed down to coming 
generations. Nor will it be out of place to add, that, as 
one of the guardians of this new seminary of learning, 
another individual was expected to be here, in compliance 
with his duty as a member of your body, into whose hands — 
_ the citizens of the United States, and the providence of God, 


_ have deposited the destinies of the whole country. Indeed, 
it is not only honorable to the cause, in which you are here 
engaged, that it has attracted the attention and secured the 
| services of the very highest class of men among us, in the 

capacity of trustees, but their supervision of the efforts to 
be made, and much more, their hearty co-operation in them, 
are guarantee enough, to all concerned, of the immediate 
and ultimate success of the institution.* 

This, however, is not the only consideration, by which the 
public have been settled in their conviction, that the college 
founded by your enterprise is certain of the future. Satis- 
fied, as they are, with your ability, with your energy, with 
your enlightened and liberal views of the character of the 
work undertaken by you, they look behind you and behold 
an entire population, spreading all over the western and 
richest portion of New York, whose resources, whose devo- 
ee ee ee eer ks 


| “Mr. Fillmore had just passed through the state, on a public occasion, and, conse- 


| quently, found it impossible, as he informed the President of the Board, so soon again 
|| to leave his post at Washington. 


Gea 


Ye 


| [5] 

/ tedness, whose determination, are enough to secure the pres- 
ent and prospective prosperity of any thing they take in 
hand. Among this population, acting as their religious 
euides, there is a band of about three hundred persons, 
every man of whom is a Spartan in his spirit, who have put 
their shoulders together in this matter, who have resolved 
on nothing short of victory, and who are ready, at any mo- 
ment, to stand in any Thermopyle, where a danger, or a 
host of dangers, may threaten the undertaking. There is 
| no danger, however, where such a population, led on by 
|| such men, are so able, so willing, and so determined. 

It is a still more fortunate circumstance, that all this abil- 
ity, and willingness, and determination, have been mani- | 
|| fested by all the people of this powerful section of our great 1 
‘| country. While a single denomination are acknowledged | 
|| as the originators of this institution, all the denominations | 
| are, more or less, united in it; nearly all have taken hold 

| 
| 


| together in giving it a pecuniary foundation; many of them 
|| are represented in its boards of instruction and of govern- 
| ment; they have joined hands in the effort of making it 
| worthy of the region whose name it bears, of the state in 
which it stands, and of the age of which it is to be, as we 
| all believe, a characteristic and a lasting monument. No 

one class, or party, or profession has given it an exclusive 
|| character by becoming its exclusive patrons. On the con- 
trary, all classes, all political parties, and all the professions, 


are known and felt alike in its origin, in its history, and in 
its plan of future management. The door is open to all 
men, who will come forward and aid us in building up a 
great institution of human learning, for the use and benefit ~ 
of a great people. 

There is also no little encouragement to be derived from 
the success of a prior effort, in the cause of education, out 
of which the present undertaking took its origin. On the 
same classic eminence, where we have laid the foundations 


ie. 6] 


of the college, there stands, at this moment, one of the 
noblest structures, dedicated to academical instruction, of 
which the whole land can boast. After having seen, as I 
think I have, more than one-half of all the leading acade- 
mies of the United States, I am certain that I have never 
beheld, in any section of the Union, a seminary edifice 
more convenient, more thoroughly adapted to its purposes, 
or more magnificent. It is filled, too, with a better array 
|! of apparatus, chemical, mechanical, and philosophical, than 
is generally to be found in similar institutions. It holds a 
library of no mean dimensions, embracing the standards on 
nearly every subject, and many of the works of the great 
masters. Its walls are well furnished with maps, and 
charts, and diagrams, which mark the present condition of 
the science and art of academical instruction. The course 
of study, pursued within those walls, is thorough and exten- 
| sive, including all the branches usually taught in our Amer- 
ican academies, and quite equaling the courses of no small 
number of our colleges. From the beginning, the work 
carried on within that building has enjoyed the services of 
strong intellects, ripe scholars, and enterprising men, who 
appreciated their position, understood the wants of the 
world, and were always ready to leave behind them any old 
though consecrated error, for the sake of a new and powerful 
truth. A watchful public have seen and acknowledged the 
advantages of such an institution thus conducted. They 
have put the seal of their approbation on it. The number 
of its students has always been, or nearly always, measured 
only by the capacity of its buildings. From its threshold 
‘there have gone out, into the different states constituting our 
vast country, and into foreign lands, according to the esti- 
mate of those best acquainted with its history, not far from 
ten thousand individuals, whose talents, and time, and liter- 
ary treasures have been devoted to the progress and eleva- 
tion of mankind. There are now enrolled, on the catalogue 


_———— , 


[7] 


just published, under the guardianship of nine or ten 
instructors, not less than eight hundred persons, who will 
shortly go out to join the ranks of their predecessors. And 
yet, gentlemen, this seminary of learning, which has so far 
outstripped every similar institution in America, is one of 
the youngest of its class in this country. It is only about 
twenty years ago, within the recollection of every one of 
you, that the proposition to erect such an institution was 
presented to those whose business it was to receive, exam- 
ine, and decide upon it. I remember the occasion, and all 
the attending circumstances, perfectly. I remember that 
there was no small opposition to the project, not only from 
among yourselves, but from other quarters. J remember it 
was said, that you were too young, too poor, too feeble, and 
too illiterate, to take so great an enterprise upon you. I 
remember it was prophesied, after the effort had actually 
been begun, and even after the first edifice had been com- 
pleted, that nothing but disaster and dishonor awaited the 
opening of the edifice. Well, the edifice at length opened, 
while the world was looking on to witness the first result of 
your undertaking. There must have been a disappointment, 
not only among those whose predictions had been discour- 


| aging, but among the most sanguine of the friends and 


(Seam co: 
founders of the institution. The halls of the new building 


were at once crowded. The first year was a year of 
triumph. The next year was more than equal to the first; 
and in this way, the school on this eminence has been going 
forward, from year to year, till its success, as I have said, 
and said truly, has no parallel on the western side of the 
Atlantic. The truth is, gentlemen, men never know what 
they can do, till they try; and sometimes, as in the case 
now mentioned, the trial leads to consequences not even 
dreamed of by those who make it. When the proposal was 
first published, in the English journals, to undertake the 
construction of a steam-vessel, which was to make the exper- 


iment of navigating the Atlantic, there were enough to say, 
and among them one of the leading savans of Europe, that 
the thing was a mathematical impossibility. They brought 
forward mathematical demonstrations to show that the 
machinery necessary to the task would sink the vessel hold- 
ing it; that, besides sinking, the ship could not contain the 
fuel which would be demanded for a voyage; and that, 
therefore, the attempt was worse than useless. The attempt, 
however, was made, and the result has imparted to the 
world a new spirit, a new animation. In the same way, 
when your enterprise was first spoken of, there were many 
ready enough to prove, by figures of calculation, and by 
figures of rhetoric, that your movement was not only vain, 
but nearly ridiculous. Nothing daunted, however, when 
discouragement would have seemed to be no lack of virtue, 
the friends of education here went directly on; and now, 
behold the wide and bountiful harvest of their labors! From 
that day to this, those of them now alive have prosecuted, 
with characteristic energy and zeal, the work then so inau- 
spiciously begun; and if any of them are dead, we, their 
survivors, owe them a debt of gratitude for their sacrifices 
and exertions. Their monument we need not build. They 
have built that themselves. There it stands, gentlemen; 
and there, I trust, it will stand, undiminished in its glory 
and grandeur, to the latest generation! 

By the side of that noble institution, gentlemen, you are 
now raising up another, which is to have a still higher char- 
acter. Indeed, I see the best augury of your triumph in the 
magnitude of your purpose. The philosopher knows how to 
understand the paradox, that it is oftentimes easier to accom- 
plish a great undertaking than it is a smaller one. History 
is full of the illustrations of this deep principle. The world 
is full of them at the present moment. Had Alexander 
proposed to conquer only Greece, Greece would have risen 
up against him, and defeated him in self-defense; but when, 


gx i 


[9] 


as a Greek himself, he offered to subjugate the world, two- 
thirds of all the Grecian cities were converted to his design 
by its very greatness. Had Napoleon laid down a plan 
of reducing a few of the small governments, like Belgium, 
which lie about his adopted country, he would have been 
shamed out of so inglorious an effort. When he told his 
countrymen, however, that the good of his country required 
the reduction of all Europe to the supremacy of France, 
the French heart was touched, and he had only to speak to 
call up around him army after army, ready, at a moment’s 
notice, to run every hazard, and to face every danger. Had 
Washington, in the day of our own great struggle, attempted 
only to resist and reduce, or otherwise to modify, the misrule 
of Britain over us, there would have been nothing in the effort 
worthy of the nation, and no man would have felt any inter- 
est init. When, on the other hand, he and his compeers 
resolved utterly to exterminate British tyranny from our 
soil, at once and forever, by declaring ourselves a sovereign 
and independent people, the whole land was roused, and 
victory soon sat upon our standard. So, in our own case, 
it is now far easier to do something worthy of us than some- 


thing unworthy of us. A small work would excite no. 


attention in so powerful and liberal a community. The 
world is getting tired of insignificant institutions. We 
have enough of them now struggling for existence. We 
are actually incumbered with academies under the name of 
colleges. Their name is all that makes them colleges. We 
have, also, in some sections of the United States, not a few 
of those institutions termed universities, which, with a 
sounding title, are but little better than efficient schools of 
preparatory education. Out of two or three hundred pupils 
presented upon their annual catalogues, you will often find 
that not more than forty or fifty of them are pursuing colle- 
giate studies. Many of these are frequently passing over 
what is technically called a scientific, which, in reality, sig- 


es 


[10 | 
nifies a very meager course. Such institutions are nothing 
but well-organized academies, with the power of conferring 
degrees upon a few of their best students. Under their 
proper title of academy, some of them would stand at the 
head, or near the head, of that class of literary institutions; 
but with the name of college, and especially with that of 
university, they are not only at the foot of their®class, but 
objects of general ridicule. They are like those little poten- 
tates of German Europe, who, with a yard’s length of royal 
| titles, are the lords of a few acres only, and can scarcely 


| 

muster a single regiment of troops to second them in their 
absurd pretensions. It is not your design, I am glad to say, 
to add another to the too numerous list of such institutions. 
You know, and I know, and every body knows, that western 
New York expects no such a seminary at our hands. It 
expects something of the very highest order. It expects to 
see here an establishment, in which all the branches of a 
liberal education shall be thoroughly pursued. It expects 
to see in it, when mature, all the apparatus, all the applian- 

ces, all the helps necessary to the most extensive cultivation 

| 

| 

| 

| 


of all the faculties of man. Tor such an establishment, it 
| has been willing to pour out its wealth like water. For 
such an establishment, it will pour out more, and continue 
to pour out, till the measure of your desire is full. Fora 
little, third-rate, meager, good-for-nothing academy of a col- 
lege, it has never given you one cent, and it never will. 
The people want nothing of that sort. They are able to 
have just what they wish; and they wish just what they 
are able to have and to support. You, gentlemen, and those 
acting with you, have proposed to give them what their con- 


dition calls for, and what they themselves desire. You pro- 
pose to raise up, at this place, amidst the beautiful scenery 
of this village, for the benefit of thousands of your fellow- || 
citizens, and for coming ages, a worthy associate of those 
| 


really great schools, literary, scientific, and professional, | 


$$$ 


im 


~ 


[11] 


You have now, as a point @apui, an academy of the most 
magnificent proportions and of undeniable renown. You 
are now adding a college to the academy, not expanding the 
academy into a college, nor giving the title of a college to a 
merely preparatory institution. The nucleus of a law school 
is now here, and will ultimately, at no distant day, become 
every thing that such a school should be, in a land of free, 
enlightened, and law-abiding citizens. The first steps for 
the foundation of a biblical seminary have even now been 
taken; and I have this day to announce to you, that those 
particularly interested in this department of the work have 
resolved on seeing it go into immediate operation. The 
medical profession will also be provided for; and thus one 
point after another will be secured, till we have reached the 
full stature of our high purpose. A university charter will 
then be asked for and granted. A university organization, 
embracing all the schools and their respective faculties, will 
then go into formal operation; and from that moment, which, 
I think, will not be very distant, we shall be able to stand 
up before the world and say, that we have accomplished 
our undertaking. Any thing less than this would be a fail- 
ure. Any thing less than this, gentlemen, if attempted by 
us, will come short of the expectations of the people. Noth- 
ing less can you accomplish, because the people will not 
help you to do a little work, when you ought to do, and can 
do, a great one. The great one you can easily achieve. Its 
grandeur, its difficulty, is the very thing that will make it 
possible and even certain. The idea of such an establish- 
ment we must now impress upon our hearts and memories. 
The image of it we must chisel into the solid substance of 
our being. Dida single man of us entertain any ideas or 
images less broad and deep than these, that man, I am 
bound to say, would be behind the spirit of our purpose, 
behind the wishes of the public, behind the ability and 


which have acquired the highest reputation in modern times. | 


i ee 


| 
| 


— ee 


willingness of our patrons, and behind the full-grown ambi- 
tion of the age. He would be a whimpering child among 
stout men. He would be toying with marbles, when he 
ought to be whirling mountains, and ripping up choles for- 
ests by the roots. He would be building cob-houses, when 
he ought to be laying down the rock and mortar be some 
grand and time-defying structure. It is fortunate, gentle- 
men, that, as I believe, you have no such man among you. 
It is still more fortunate, that you have no such paltry spirit, 
and no such petty calculations. You have come forward as 
the champions of a mighty effort; and, as I have said, the 
most reliable omen of its success is its very greatness. 

The grandeur of this effort is to be seen in something 
else, however, than the number of the affiliated institutions. 
It is to be manifest, I trust, in the free and progressive 
spirit that is to Soya every one of them. Education is a 
progressive science. It has had its beginning and its his- 
tory. During the lapse of many centuries, it has been 
gradually developing and advancing. It has advanced, and 
that materially, within the Election of the older persons 
in this audience. One century ago, it was customary to 
make the mathematics an exercise of memory, with but lit- 
tle use of diagrams and visible representations. Now, a 
common academy would be an object of ridicule, unless it 
had the ordinary appliances of blackboards and similar 
means of indicating surfaces, circles, globes, and other 
figures. One century ago, it was the fashion to teach the 
classic languages, not through the mother tongue of the 
pupil, but through one.of the very languages to be learned. 
Now, not only is all instruction, in this department, given 
in the vernacular of the student, both by text-book and 
teacher, but the matter to be acquired has been reduced toa 
much greater degree of simplicity and order, than was 
dreamed of at the beginning of even the present century. 
The same is true of every other branch of human learning. 


: ce 


[13] 


Every branch is yet undergoing the process of still further 
simplification. It is now as practicable, in a given time, to 
go through with a full course of pure and applied mathe- 
matics, as the cotemporaries of Francis Bacon found it to 
master the single department of geometry. It is now as 
easy to obtain a thorough knowledge of the Latin, Greek, 
and Hebrew, as it was either one of them in the aiiye of the 
Italian reformation. As the time required, however, to 
comprehend the circle of the sciences, and of human Wow! 
edge, is thus rapidly reduced, that circle is as rapidly 
enlarging by the efforts of ridden scholarship. The period, 
therefore, of passing through a liberal range of studies 
remains the same, while the amount of mental dmaniing® | 
acquired, and the amount of knowledge stored up, is con- 
stantly increasing. This process will go forward, till the 
scope of human thought will be doubled, and doubled con- 
tinually without limit, and the mind ff the bold student, 
through a growing course of study, will be able to readh 
| 


out, wider and wider, in its graspings after the truth that 
God has scattered over the boundless area of his universe. 
It is essential, indeed, that education should keep up with 
science. We must have nothing stereotyped in this great 
business. We must not cling to the vestibule of study, 
because it was once the only room open in the temple of 
creation. We must not be contented with the few common 
gems of learning, such as our fathers had, when the 
Almighty, by the hands of his knowing servants, has 
brought us into the place, boundless and glorious, where he 
Hees his diamonds. Forward, must be our watchword. 
As a new kingdom, or a new deb dehiaten t or a new science 
is developed, we must seize hold of it, and embrace it, and, 
at any temporary cost, expand our system of instruction so 
as to make room for it. In this way, we shall show our- 
| selves equal to our stations. In this way, we shall keep pace 
with the anion” of the world, as it goes onward in its 


[14] 


career of unending triumph. In this way, we shall manifest 
and employ that liberal, enlightened, unshackled spirit, 
which is the only safety of a world like ours, in a day so 
wise, so practical, so ambitious, and so energetic. 

If there had been, after all these things, a single element 
of your enterprise wanting to its ultimate as well as imme- 
diate success, that element, gentlemen, you have added by 
resolving to offer all the benefits and honors of your institu- 
tion to each sex alike. I know, indeed, that there is a good 
deal of prejudice against this course. I know that that 
prejudice has arisen, not only from a misappreciation of the 
female mind, but from a misunderstanding of the true 
theory of education. The very friends of the female, or 
those professing to be her friends, have made their friend- 
ship an injury, if not a curse. They talk, in great, swelling 
words, about the equality, and sometimes about the superi- 
ority, of the female mind. They are holding conventions 
all over the country, and making violent declamations 
respecting the wrongs of woman, and the oppressive con- 
duct of her tyrant, man. They are incessantly telling us, 
that woman has lost her natural rights, and that she has 
become the slave of her unnatural lord. Now, gentlemen, 
I wish first to assure you, that with all this nonsense I have 
not one particle of sympathy. I am about to tell you what 
I think of female education, as far as I can now express my 
thoughts; but all this rhodomontade about that fair and 
lovely being, to whom God has given her best name of 
woman, is almost as wicked as it is ridiculous. Socially, 
the position of woman, in all Christian countries, is as good 
as it ever can be, or ought to be. Instead of complaining, 
she has reason to be proud of it. Considering her exactly 
as she is, of and within herself, her position is really mar- 
velous. Look upon her, a fair, frail, tender creature, and 
tell me how much power you would expect to see exerted 
by such a being in such a rough world as this. Would you 


Epi a 


[15] 


not expect to see her, in the selfish scramble of society, 
neglected, forgotten, or oppressed, because she is totally un- 
able to Hetend and protect herself? And yet, behold what 
woman is! In the morning of her days, when yet an 
inhabitant of her paternal Hone she is the little household 
goddess of the family circle, the center of affection, the 
flower of flowers. When Hav extoinie into early womanhood, 
she becomes at once the cynosure of a thousand starry eyes, 
whose light sparkles only for her sake, and whose luster is 
forever blotted out, if she utters one inauspicious word. 
Even in the soberest period of her life, when she is esti- 
mated by the cooler judgment of the sterner sex, she is 
still the most powerful inhabitant of this world. Weak as 
she is herself, every thing is made to work her good, and to 
do her bidding. The husband, proud of the gentle being 
that has trusted all she is to him, stakes his soul on her 
defense, makes her enemies his enemies, counts his suffer- 
ings on her account his pleasures, and dies beforé-he will 
have a wind blow too roughly over her. He builds her a 


the shade of running vines and bloom. Of that home he 
makes her the real owner, the guardian, the governess, 
whose infant desire is stronger than his full-grown will. 
For that home, ay, for the being in it, he absents himself 
more than half of all his hours, toils in the sun, battles with 
the elements, digs into the rock-covered globe, breasts the 
billows of all oceans, and, from a thousand scenes of labor, 
brings the hard-earned treasures of the world to offer them 
at her feet. It is true, she is often obliged to toil and suffer 
with him; but only because her lord, as he is called, is 
unable to do for her what he would gladly do. So soon, 
however, as his fortune smiles a little, though he continues 
to use himself as formerly, he lightens the load on her; 
and that day he looks to as the happiest of his life, when he 
can utterly remove the burden, and give her freedom. 


house, and plants it around with trees, and covers it with’ 


| [16] 


Then, he lays himself out, more than ever, to promote her 
happiness. As he becomes more able, he surrounds her 
with more conveniences, fills her abode with costly furni- 
ture, causes her to walk on carpets, gives her a downy 
bed vaulted with a silken canopy, and makes her the expo- 
nent of his wealth, the walking ensign of his affection, by 
robing her in magnificence, while he himself slaves on as 
willingly as ever. When he looks to the world about him, 
he widens his circle of acquaintance to expand the area of 
her enjoyment, and he reckons every man to be his friend 
in proportion to the esteem borne by that friend toward the 
object of his own worship. He loves his children as they 
love and honor her; and he loves them none the less 
because he knows, if he knows any thing of their feelings, 
that their tenderest emotions, their strongest affections, are 
not for him, and will never be for him, but for that other 
being whom they know as mother. The truth of it is, we 
|| need no linguist to help us see that such words as daughter, 
sister, bride, wife, mother, are the dearest and most cher- 
ished in every language; and the whole Christian world 
unites in pouring upon the persons, known under these 
magic titles, ease, happiness, and honor. That same Chris- 
tian world, I know, sometimes complains of the universal 
evil of what is denominated hero-worship; but when it 
beholds, as it does every day, not only the common race of 
mortals, but every mortal, bowing at the shrine of woman, 
it first absolves the transgressors of their guilt, and then. 
pronounces their fault a religious virtue. The very priests 
of this creed are as deep in the virtuous crime as any other 
class of people; and the most worshiped of the world’s 
heroes are not too high to be the most devoted of the wor- 
shipers of woman. We all worship her; and if any of the 
sex, vain of what they have, are so unwise as to overlook 
all that has been freely given, and begin to demand more, 
| when there is no more to give, I must tell you again, that I | 


€ ae 


ao 


[17] 


| have not the smallest sympathy with their undertaking. If 


they want more than what they get on earth, in those coun- 
tries under the sway of revelation, my opinion is, that they 
will trouble their good hearts to no good purpose. Were 
this the period of the Greek mythology, and such things 
were going on, I would pray to Jupiter to punish these fair 
rebels, who think themselves so mistreated by the men, by 
condemning them to reside in some planet where no men 
were found. In this way I should expect to reach both the 
ends of punishment. JI should not only visit them severely 
for their offense, but be.sure to work upon them a speedy 
and lasting reformation. They would be glad to come back 
again, I think, to embrace the chains of their former slavery, 
and even those that forged them. 7 
No, gentlemen, the fault is not, that we do not respect the 
female as thoroughly as we should. Our regard could 
hardly be higher than it is; but we do not manifest that 
regard in the proper way. We make her our idol, when 
she ought to be our companion. . We treat her as a mere 
physical being, but neglect the capacities of her mind. I 
know no reason, and I never expect to hear one, why every 
power and faculty of her threefold nature—body, intellect, 


and heart—should not be, in every instance, as perfectly’ 


and evenly developed as the powers and faculties of man. 
Intellectually considered, the woman is a man. She has all 
the mental capacities of aman. She has memory, reason, 
and imagination, which, as Bacon tells us, constitute all that 
belongs to mind. She has the same sensibilities, the same 
emotions and desires, as man. She has a wil entirely like 
his. The laws of all these functions of the soul are the 
same in both. The work of education, therefore, which con- 
sists in expanding all these common powers, is emphatically 
one. 

There are some people, however, who think, that, as there 
is some acknowledged difference between the sexes, there 


Ss 


| a 


| 


should consequently be two different systems of education. 
We, therefore, hear of such things as male and female edu- 
cations; but I have yet to learn any philosophical basis for 
this distinction. Do we know of any sexuality in our 
mental faculties? Do we know of any such thing as a male 
memory, or a female memory? Do we know of any such 
things as male and female reasons, male and female imagin- 
ations, or male and female wills? We speak, it is true, of 
the will of a female, but not of a female will. So we may 
speak of the mind of a female, or the soul of a female, but 
never of a female mind and soul.. The mind, the soul, is 
neither male nor female. It is simply the immortal part, 
essentially the same under both conditions, and requiring 
essentially the same treatment. That portion of this human 
nature, in which there is really a difference, is not only 
physical, but exactly that part of the physical which comes 
not within the range’ of scholastic discipline. That which 
is common to both sexes is what the world has proposed to 
educate; and this work is to be done, certainly, by a com- 
mon course of training. 

Believe me, gentlemen, there is no small amount of fine 
rhetoric, but very false logic, lavished upon this subject. 
You have seen, that there is no fundamental difference 
between the soul of a man, and the soul of a woman, and 
that, as a consequence, there should be no fundamental dif- 
ference in their education. But the same would be true, or 
might be true, if there were a difference in their mental 


| constitution. Let the distinction be as great in mind, as it 


is in body, and still there would be no proof, that the man 
must have one kind of mental aliment, and the woman 
another kind. The wisdom of the all-wise God has settled 
this question for us. This principle of sexuality is a univer- 
sal principle in organic nature. All living things, inhabit- 
ing the three elements—land, air, and water—from the 
viewless aphis, that lives his hour upon the tiny leaf, to the 


lh Ue 


[19] 


ichthiosaurus, or leviathan, that crawled among the rushes 
and the ferns of the giant times of earth—from the lichen 
that creeps upon an arctic rock, to the towering palm that 
holds his head highest among the tall sons of a tropic for- 
est—all have this distinction of the sexes as clearly and as 
widely marked as it is in man. And yet, gentlemen, how 
do all these get their development, their growth? Has the 
omniscient Creator seen it necessary to have two systems of 
alimentation, two sets of means, for the support and increase 
of this twofold but universal life? Do not the male and 
the female plant, the male and the female animal, through 
the entire range of animated being, inhale the same vital 
atmosphere, drink from the same gushing fountains, bask in 
the same vivifying sunlight, and draw all the resources of 
their existence and growth from one common storehouse? 
If, then, in relation to the physical, where the principle of 
sexuality does undeniably obtain, it would be ridiculous to 
talk of male and female atmospheres, male and female 
springs or rains, male and female sunshine, or male and 
female elements in any part of nature, how much more 
ridiculous it is, in relation to the mind, to the soul, to 
thought, where there is as undeniably no such thing as sex, 
to talk of a male and a female education, and of male and 
female schools! As there is no sex in the work to be done, 
so there should be no sex in our way of doing it. Nor can 
it be said, that a common system of education will tend to 
destroy the proper distinction of the sexes, making the 
woman too much a man, and the man too much a woman. 
All this outcry is nothing but rhetorical nonsense. Those 
who make it forget the universal law, that it is not the ali- 
ment on which an organism feeds, by which its specific dif- 
ference from all other organisms is produced, but that the 
difference is in the organism itself. Out of the same goodly 


air, from which the infant extracts its soft and delicious 


breath, the bloated blow-snake manufactures death. If you 


| 
| 
| 


[20] 


send your dairy to a mulberry forest, they will not fail to 
bring home milk; but if the inhabitants of the cocoonry go 
out to their leaf-laid tables, though they feed upon exactly 
the same substance, each one of these nature’s manufac- 
turers produces nothing but his little bale of silk. Ifa lady 
and gentleman sit down together at the same board, they 
may divide a biscuit, if they please, into equal parts. The 
one part, which is eaten by the woman, goes to the forma- 
tion of woman’s flesh. The other part, if eaten by the 
man, goes to the formation of the flesh of a man. The 
product, therefore, is quite different, while the aliment is 
one. In like manner, you may supply the same materials 
of study, exactly in the same way, and at the same time, to 
two individuals of opposite sexes, and, in the one case, you 
will have, as the product of the same nourishment, the ex- 
quisite delicacy and grace of the female, in the other, the 
more massive and stubborn proportions of the man. Sup- 
ply what you will, the mind of each individual, whether 
male or female, will work over and mentally digest and as- 
similate the intellectual food, according to its own organiza- 
tion, purposes, and wants. It is the dictate of our natural 
constitution, therefore, as well as the law of God, that the 
kind of education to be given to the sexes should be of the 
same general character, because the beings to be educated 
are essentially the same. In the case of the female, just as 
in that of the male, the great end aimed at should be the 
fullest possible development of every faculty, physical, in- 


tellectual, and moral. When this is done, the fair pupil will 


be prepared for any position, and for every work, to which 
she may be ealled by any conceivable relation of her after 
life. When it is said, therefore, as it is often unwisely said, 
that the end of all female education is to fit the fair one for 
the responsibilities of a mother, because, in the providence 
of God, she is liable to be a mother, the saying is not philo- 
sophical. For the same reason, and with as much propriety, 


[ 21] 


we should educate her to be a grandmother. The right 
way, however, is to give her a complete education, covering 
the demands of her whole nature, and then she will be 
ready for any thing that may fall to her lot to do or to suffer. 

All this may be granted, however, because it is obviously 
true, while there are many, in this unnatural age of ours, 
who strenuously maintain, that, though there should be no 
fundamental difference between the kind of discipline to be 
given to the sexes, they ought never to be educated together 
at the same school. It is said, by this class of philosophers, 
if they are worthy of such a name, that neither can be so 
fitly educated, as when each is educated by itself. I think 
I know, gentlemen, the source from which this strange phi- 
losophy proceeds. There is a class of people in our world, 
who, singular as it may seem, would separate the sexes 
altogether. Some sections of this class go farther in their 
theory than some other sections; but the principle of all of 
them is really the same. The principle is very old. It was 
the practice of the first nations of antiquity, in Pagan 
times, to treat the female as an inferior being, and to make 
her stand below the male. The Greeks and Romans, with 
all their light, on this subject never saw the truth. The 
Jews, in the days of their idolatry, drinking in the spirit of 
the Pagan world, introduced the false idea into their social 
life, and went so far in the wrong as to banish the woman, 
in their religious worship, from the society of man. 
Mohammed, who was a mediator between Paganism and 
Judaism, in their corrupted states, not only separated 
woman from man in the house of worship, but excluded her 
entirely from the domestic circle. It is the strangest thing 
of all, however, that, in this Christian age, and even in this 
Christian country, the spirit of old Paganism reappears in a 
similar attempt, not merely to divide the sexes in the house 
of God, but also while pursuing, during the period of youth, 
the ordinary studies of the schools. Without denying that 


——— 


every rule is liable to exceptions, and that, as in the early | 
times of Methodism, an exception did undoubtedly exist, 
so far as public worship was concerned, I am free to say, 
before this enlightened audience, and in the deepest intona- 
tions of my voice, that every attempt to produce such a 
separation of the sexes, and to make the separation a uni- 
versal custom, is not only unnatural, irrational, and absurd, 
but wicked, injurious, and unpardonable. The worst schools 
in the country, at this present moment, in all respects, are 
those which are exclusively devoted to one sex. The worst 
vices that have ever been attributed to any considerable 
body of human beings, have been proved upon these male, 
and even upon these female schools. So certain are the 
sexes to degenerate in morals, as well as in all discipline 
and behavior, when either is kept entirely by itself, that the 
highest spirit of religion, and the most rigid rules of con- 
duct, have not been able to save such irrational associations 
from their natural tendency to misbehavior, immorality, and 
crime. This separation of the sexes, for mental and moral 
purposes, has been the great characteristic of Catholicism 
for the last twelve hundred years; and what man is there so 
ignorant as not to know, that the monasteries and nunneries 
of this religious sect, in which the sexes are separately 
assembled for study and for prayer, have ever been the 
principal fountains of corruption, not only to Catholicism, 
but to the universal world? May the eternal God grant us 
a deliverance from a wrong so deep, and high, and broad! 
Let us sweep this Pagan, this Catholic, this Mohammedan, 
this abominable and devilish delusion from our path, and 
then go forward in the way marked out by the hand of | 
nature and of nature’s God! Look you, gentlemen. | 
What is the voice of nature, and the voice of God, 
upon this important subject? Has the Creator made any 
such separation, of the sexes? Has he declared that it is 
unsafe for the male and the female to dwell together? If 


[22] 


[ 23 ] | 
that were his opinion, why did he not divide them by some 
arrangement of his own? Why did he not order that all 
the males of the race should be brought into being by one 
class of families, and all the females by another class? 
That, however, is not the order nor the law of God. The 
male and the female were made expressly for companion- 
ship. The woman was created, as it is plainly written, 
because it was not good for man to be alone. . Both sexes 
are born of the same parents. The little boy and his sister 
sleep side by side upon the same pillow; they grow up 
under the same guardianship; they walk together to the 
same master; they sport together upon the same play- 
grounds; they go hand in hand through the entire period of 
youth; and both are the happier, the better, the more per- 
fectly developed, by reason of the influences thus mutually 
exerted upon each other. They respectively want what the 
other, and the other only, can bestow. That boy is unfortu- 
nate who has no sister. That sister is unfortunate who has 
no brother. That parent is to be pitied, who, having either 
one, has not the other to be a help and a companion. But 
if it is best, if it is the ordinance of God, that one couple 
of a little son and daughter be born members of the same 
household, and dwell together in the same society, and 
study and expand together under the same discipline, the 
like will be true of all other couples of which any rising 
generation is composed; and if one brother and one sister 
is to be admitted to the instruction of a teacher, as the best 
way of obtaining their intellectual and moral growth, the 
same will hold true of every other brother and sister, till we 
shall have, what nature has ordained, not only a school of 
these brothers and sisters, but the principle established of 
educating all the children now living, or yet to live, in 
mixed schools. Such schools are now in being; and they 
are emphatically the best on earth. The influence of one 
sex upon the other cultivates, refines, and perfects them 


[ 24 ] 


both. The love of each other’s approbation, the fear of 
each other’s censure, makes the duty of government a most 
easy thing. Young gentlemen and ladies, who graduate 
from the halls of such an institution, go out to the world, not 
like the awkward offspring of the exclusive schools, but 
accustomed to that mixed society, and to all the graces and 
refinements of it, in which they are to be called to move. 
The success of such graduates, in the affairs of life, is by 
no means doubtful; for, say what we will of the superior 
value of the substantial over the ornamental, it remains no 
less true, that the manner is at least half the man. True or 
not true, however, it is clear enough that this mode of edu- 
cation is not only more thorough, more universal, and more 
perfect, but evidently according to the ordinance of God. 
Yonder seminary, gentlemen, which I have before justly 
pronounced the most successful of its kind on earth, is a 
proud and triumphant demonstration of every word that I 
have said; and I am glad, indescribably glad, that, as your 
academical institution has proved such a monument to the 
truth, you are now opening the portals of another, where the 
aspiring of both sexes may enjoy the highest advantages of 
that system of education, which embraces the whole being, 
and expands every capacity of our threefold nature to its 
utmost extent. I have said before that the grandeur of your 
enterprise would insure its success. I now say, and say with 
equal emphasis, that its justice—its justice to neglected 
woman—will make that success more than doubly sure. 
The blessings of a righteous God will be upon it! 

Finally, gentlemen, I must congratulate you, I must thank 
you, that you have not only raised up such an institution, 
but given it a location in the country. The country is the 
place for colleges. Though I have spent the greater part of 
my life in cities, I never liked them as seats of educational 
institutions. We all know, that, with all the good in them, 
they are far more corrupt than the quiet villages in our 


ap 


rural districts. The noise and bustle of their thoroughfares 
leave but little room for close, consecutive, and protracted 
thought. The style, the luxury, and the expense of living 
in them are not at all congenial to the student’s wants. 
Their haunts of secret immorality, their resorts of midnight 
revel, are too numerous, too convenient, and too tempting, 
to admit of general purity in a mixed company of young 
people, whose habits are not yet formed, whose prudence is 
proverbially imperfect, and whose spirits are constantly im- 
pelling them forward toward every object of self-gratifica- 
tion, whether it is good or bad. 

It has been published to the world, by a competent com- 


mittee, that, in the city of London, there could scarcely | 


be found a young man of the age of twenty, unless decid- 
edly religious, whose virtue had not been sacrificed. It 


was also published, that, out of a population of one mill- | 


ion, there were at least ten thousand people, who would cut 
the throat of a fellow-being, if they could do it safely, for 
the value of one shilling. But London is not the worst of 
cities. It would be revolting to portray the general corrup- 
tion, the open wickedness, the secret and concealed licen- 
tiousness, of the larger and even smaller towns throughout 
our own great country. In them, and in their most secluded 
streets, are the genteel tippling-houses, the billiard and card 
saloons, the bowling-alleys, the gaming-houses, and the 
houses of ill fame, whose superintendents and customers 
mix with all sorts of company, and stand in the most public 
places, beckoning, and tempting, and drawing their thou- 
sands of young men to their ways of infamy and their 
abodes of death. So frightful is this corruption of our 
cities, that it has become almost an impossibility for a father 
to raise his family in any one of them, without finding at 
last, after all his pains, his own children tainted with the air 
of these abominations, or rotten with the worst diseases of 
the soul. Disgusted with these scenes of crime, it is now 


[ 26 ] 


becoming the fashion for the best families to remove from 
the crowded area of the city, and locate themselves in se- 
cluded country seats, where the rising youth can grow up in 
some security from such terrible evils as I have named. 
Some of them, whose moral sense is keener, affrighted with 
what their eyes behold, and haunted with the specters of 


‘| real but unseen woes, are flying the cities altogether, and 


reckon them as little better than sinks of iniquity, where no 


| purity can dwell. Shall we, then, with all these things be- 


fore us, and with our knowledge of ten thousand other 
things, that no tongue can tell, go into these very cities, 
whose inhabitants are fleeing from them, and locate in their 
midst, or within reach of their worst abominations, our sem- 
inaries for the education of the young? Forbid it, ye virtu- 
ous, and wise, and prudent of the land! Forbid it, thou 
eternal God! If the father can not rear his own sons and 
daughters safely in these cities, though he has them under 
his own roof, subject to his constant admonition, and within 
the range of his ever-restless and unsleeping eye, how shall 
we feel safe to send our sons, and our daughters, where they 
will be surrounded by the same evils, but without a father 
to check, or a mother’s voice to chide, or any influence ade- 
quate to restrain them from plunging headlong into all the 
vices of the day! Believe me, gentlemen, it is risk enough, 
and every parent feels it so, to send forth his children from 
under the parental roof, and commit their temporal and 
eternal destiny into the hands of strangers, even where all 
the circumstances are the most favorable to their intellectual 
and moral weal. How, then, will any man dare to throw 
his offspring into those places of pollution, where it is so 
impossible to resist and live above corruption? That man 
is guilty, guilty in the sight of heaven, who does dare to do 
it. For myself, gentlemen, from what I know of cities—and 
I know them well—I would no more send a son, or a daugh- 
ter, to pass the period of study in any one of them, than I 


2g 


[27] . | 


would throw them into a devouring furnace, or hurl them 
into the ingulfing currents of the sea. I am glad, gentle- 
men, that you have thought as I do on this vital subject. 
I am glad that you have located your institution in this || 
transcendently beautiful, moral, peaceful, quiet village. I 
am glad that we have here not one of the many vices that 
I have mentioned. We have here no places where these 
vices, or vices of any sort, are nourished, fostered, or sus- 
tained. We have here a population, who, having the power 
to do what they will, will not allow any resort of immorality | 
to find a place. We have here a people whose habits are || 
those of the honest and industrious, whose minds have been 
cultivated by good society and books, whose hearts and | 
lives have been generally committed to virtue, to religion, 
and to God. We have here a wide prospect of country, no 
| where surpassed for fertility and beauty, over the whole of 
which our youth can safely ramble, when released from 
study, without meeting the first object to excite improper 
feelings, or tempt them to go. astray. We have here the 
most delightful and healthful of all climates, whose sum- 
mers are mild and equable, and whose winters are just cold 
enough to sharpen all the faculties, and make the whole 
mind keen. We have every thing here, my friends, that || 
the heart of any educator could desire, and not one thing 
that he could wish to have removed. Beautiful, and lovely, 
and chosen place! Fortunate, and favored, and promising 
institution! Here may the nascent walls of our college 
stand, and stand for ages—stand when all now here are 
gone from earth—surrounded by the shade of these fine 
trees, and covered with the glory of its doings! Here they 
now do stand; and I thank you, gentlemen of the Board of 
Trustees, from my heart I thank you, that you have not 
only made exactly such an institution as you have, but placed 
it where every surrounding circumstance will so help it 
upward, and add to the certainty of its triumphs! 


Ae 


ji ‘GA 


| [ 28] a 


| 
| 
| But, gentlemen, let us not deceive ourselves. I have 
spoken of the favorable circumstances that stand around 
our present undertaking. I have spoken of our circum- | 
stances as pledges of our prosperity, as evidences of our 
power. There is, however, no power at all but that which 
dwells in the mind of the almighty God. We sometimes 
talk differently, I know. We talk of the powers and forces 
of nature. Nature has no power, no force, but what she 
borrows from the presence of the all-ruling God. The 
power by which the green grass grows, the flowers bloom, 
the trees of the wooded hills put on their livery, the juices || 
of the earth run their round through the vegetating circle 
of the world; the power of all the elements that lie between 
the wide extremes of fire and water; the power which holds 
the stars and moves the planets in their orbits; the power 
of the human mind, of feeling, thinking, acting; all power, 
in a word, is of the power of God. He can give it, or 
withhold it, according to his good pleasure. The child that 
draws his support from him is more than a match for the 
mightiest of the sons of earth. The giant, from whom he 
withdraws his countenance, falls down at once into the 
weakness of a babe. You, gentlemen, if you wish to be 
powerful, invincible, triumphant in your new work, must 
seize the hand of God. It is upon that hand that I have 
taken hold myself. So far as you take hold and keep hold 
of that, I shall be your most faithful and obedient coadjutor. 
Should you, at any time—which may Heaven forbid !—let 
go of this support, and try to draw me from my allegiance, 
or swerve me from the order of Divine providence, I must 
tell you plainly, gentlemen, you will find me unmanageably 
disobedient to your wishes. But I expect no such event. 
You, as much as I, have plighted your faiths, and the faiths 
of all your co-workers, to walk in the ways and to depend 
upon the power of God. First, in every emergency, we are 
to try our own strength, according to the measure already 


£1 SINAN ALANS SILA I TAL, CARAMEL E ET OSIM CUSRTI EEE sie > | 
ae —— 


[ 29 ] 


given us; and then, if we lack, we are to eall upon him 
whose fiat created all things, and whose will upholds them! 

Gentlemen, in taking my seat, I must again thank you for 
the honor you have given me. I honestly and frankly tell 
you, that I would not exchange the office now conferred 
upon me for any other in Church or State. No other is 
superior to it. 


“The warrior’s name, 
Though pealed and chimed on all the tongues of fame, 
Sounds less harmonious to the grateful mind 
Than his, who fashions and improves mankind.” 


When the lamented Fisk declined the episcopal office, 
that he might retain the presidency of a sister institution, 
he acted the part, as I think, of a wise, sagacious, far-seeing 
man. The results attained by him, I know, may never be 
attained by us. Prosperity, I am well aware, after all that 
I have said, comes not at every call. 


“°Tis not in mortals to command success; 
But we'll do more, Sempronius—we’ll deserve it.” 


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